Opening line from "Highway Five Love Poem" by Ruth L. Schwartz
This is a love poem for all the tomatoes
I squished to make our Date-Night spaghetti.
Our love, like the pasta, was shiny. So the story goes.
We sit at our table, between us a rose
Red as the marinara I chose. (He let me).
This is a love poem for all our tomatoes.
We watch the steam, which the mouth quickly blows
Away (like the wind and those petals the day he met me).
Our love, like the pasta, was sticky. So the story goes.
We sip our red wine. Chianti, it has a good nose.
(In the morning, do you think he will regret me?)
This is a love poem. For all our tomatoes
Are gone, just as the wine hides grapes squished by toes
in authentic California vineyards. (You get me?)
Our love, like the pasta, was steamy. So the story goes.
We finish our meal with gestures the other knows.
(I wonder if he'll someday forget me.)
This isn't a love poem for all our tomatoes.
Our love, like our pasta, was al dente. So our story goes.

Angels of destiny, sunk in empty eyes so clear,
Angels of destiny, every day your fate so near.
Seldom has your little face been graced with a smile
Nothing strikes you funny as you search the garbage pile.
These angels are babies, little babes without a bed.
Every day their hands held out for just one piece of bread.
Dreams of hoping something, anything would be more fare
Praying maybe someone, anyone might care.
Poor poor angels I would love to give much more,
But I'm too busy keeping up with the guy next door.
I wish he hadn’t bought that new boat down at the bay,
Now I'll have to save to buy a bigger one some day
Angels of destiny sentenced to a life of fears,
Angels of destiny, I will just leave you my tears.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
09.09.2014
Contest The Poet II
Gautami Phookan
Theme: Leave you my tears
6th

All aboard this ship of fools,
all aboard she's sailing,
all aboard this ship of fools,
for we are going a' whaling.
From the harbour our course we keep,
for the distant Antarctic water,
to find the leviathans of the deep,
and begin our bloody slaughter.
All aboard this ship of fools,
all aboard she's sailing,
all aboard this ship of fools,
for we are going a' whaling.
We say there is a scientific need,
to study these magnificent beings
we harpoon them, and watch them bleed,
as before our ship they're fleeing.
All aboard this ship of fools,
all aboard she's sailing,
all aboard this ship of fools,
for we are going a' whaling.
And still our leaders, they entreat
that we do this for the good of science,
but really it is for their meat,
that we kill these gentle giants
All aboard this ship of fools,
all aboard she's sailing,
all aboard this ship of fools,
for we are going a' whaling.

Here,
where the black white shadows
pond and melt
her dress
flutters around the
pronounced scimitar
of her neck line.
Eyes whisper
fr-ig-id
with a syllabically thick accent
as if cold were a ham-fisted lug
emerging from the
yawning dark mouth
of the cabin behind her
pressing his hands
with the grip
of a dying man
bracing his last breath
with each
light blue,
half moon
fingernail.

It's Christmas! Christmas!
That time of year
When people are filled...
With holiday cheer?
Yeah right. . .
I really do wish it were true
But people are people
Through and through
It's not about happiness anymore
Or in respect to what matters.
In reality it concerns what you get
And the food that is piled on the platters.
What has happened to the world of today?
Where is the 'loving and giving...'?
Now it is all just me, me, me.
Is this a nightmare? Or are we actually living.
Yep we might have a lot of things
Hang on! Let's add some more
It isn't the family that I'm expecting
But the postman knocking at the door.
When the topic turns to Christmas cheer
Lets go stuff our faces...
Break out all that lovely beer!
Chuck away those graces!
But... Suddenly the month is over
There go all the gifts you gave
Your debt payments crawl closer and closer
And you become a material slave.

She smells of stale garbage and wine
Her boots all worn and tattered
Stern-faced and stony eyes
Dressed in a tired ol' mink
She shivers as she takes a rest
From pushing her metal cart
Squeaking and overflowing with
Items reflecting her life
She had been warned twice to move
The choice was not hers to make
Today, like all the others
She will walk ten blocks or so
In hope to find a warmer place
To lay down for the night
Just a corner to rest
Is all she will be needing
She knows this will be over soon
The pain gets worse each day
Yet, her hopes live on for one more day
Her deliverance is on its way!
~*~
*"HOMELESSNESS"

Today I am a grape
Hanging on a vine
Perhaps to be plucked one day
Ending up in someones wine
Maybe I'll be bitter
One of the worst ones you could eat
Or possibly be the most tastey ones
The sweetist of the sweet
I hang with a bunch of others
That I see all through the day
Longing to be anywhere
But there seems to be no way
Seeing alot of other beauties
Farther down the line
Hoping they will notice me
When I'm plump and in my prime
though now the nights are getting colder
Others have begun to all fall down
Bunches of dying grapes
Laying everywhere on the ground
Unable to handle this madness
I'm letting go of this vine tonite
So I won't have to wake to this sadness
That I must see through each days light

It’s My Birthday
It’s my birthday… I look out the window there is no one for me owe so, owe so lonely poor me .
It’s my birthday… you surprise me, with a Barber-Q grill with a cooler that chills with a grin we show white grills.
Happy Birthday… it’s my Birthday I am still waiting, it is almost the end of my the day, just waiting on you to wish me a happy birthday which, well make my day.
It’s my birthday…you do not remember that day, can we go out for we can remember that day?
It’s my birthday… I can share it or alone, some share it with a twin, or with a friend and the ones who stay to the ends like a good friend.
It my birthday… its looks like another day to me I just need someone or something to comfort with me a room full of women and with hand full men, a juice in cup, juice in glass, with a sweet lady and grill on cut grass that may make every day feel like my birthday, with a touch of class.
It’s your birthday… it’s your birthday you should all-ways win on your birthday, if do not have a mate you sneak and go on second party date form those who may player hate.
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday! it comes and go, I see you come through, looking out my window with a hand full company that is what a party really should need, yes it’s sweet, sweet with music and sweet with treats or it must be the money, or food, or brinks, or just me.
Poetry 7/7/12 by author Keith Kadell

Come little children- come and eat-There’s plenty all scattered about
Stale flat bread and biscuit crumbles -You must dig them out
Banana peelings and lettuce leafs -You may clean the dirt off neat
Perhaps the peelings of a Fu Fu dish- just to make a sweet
Come little one- come and eat- The little child’s belly cries
The flies will lead you to bush meat- the maggots where it lies
Coconut and cassava cakes- perhaps a little rice
Just below the burning heap where the neighbor’s dead dog lies
The smorgasbord lies beyond the hill-the town’s other side
Forgive the stench- just pass the boneyard -where your nine year old brother died

Went to get my banana as I headed for the door
It had been on the table that much I know for sure
Last night I put it ready to take with me to work
Now it has gone AWOL and I feel such a berk
I’d gone into the kitchen I was busy multitasking
Picked up my banana, but where is it now I’m asking
Had been to brush my teeth its something I always do
But it isn’t in the bathroom what am I going to do
I’ve checked the kitchen cupboard and underneath my chair
The microwave and fridge – oh damn it isn’t there
Got into my car and listened to ‘The Pearl Fishers’
Maybe my poor banana is somewhere lurking in a fissure
Now I’m back at home and of bananas I do dream
The little yellow fiend it still cannot be seen
I’m starting to worry now that I am turning mad
And I’m also pretty hungry that really is so sad
I will continue in my quest to find the missing fruit
Cos this pain in my tummy is turning quite acute
If I can’t locate it today I may get quite depressed
I need to find that banana and put my mind at rest
Jan Allison
14th May 2014

It rained again last night, as he woke up from the muddy dirt
he always sleep in.
As he stretches out as far as he can, ouch he said my body hurts
me so very bad again.
The bowl for food and water remain empty, and the grassy areas
are so far away.
No home anymore the home I once had seems so far away it makes
me so, so sad.
I am hurting so bad I just want to stay in today so no one will be
mean to me.
I search the trash cans, dumpsters all around this town when people
see me they say ‘get out of here’.
I runaway as fast as I can while I lay down to rest my body, legs and
paws the food was thrown out.
my belly is groaning, I am so thirsty, can’t remember the last time
I had ate any real food, all I eat is stick, twigs and grass.
Lonely as much as a dog can be, not one person reaches their hand out
to me.
Night time came and he settles in for another lonely sleepless night.
Now all that remains is a small grave with the words that someone had
written, here lays a ‘dog with out a name’.
It's sad it was to late for this dog I now named 'Jake' no more pain,
hunger or thirst for him.
Rest in peace my Jake and we will meet you someday again.

Five free range chickens surviving earth’s natural selection...
Spring flowers began to emerge while “Hefei” and hens explored.
Wary of snakes and possums, they moved about with caution.
Hunting, pecking and scratching, together in one accord -
One hen snuck into a pitched tent to lay her lovely eggs.
Behind some plants over wintered in a place nice and warm.
With shattered wing and broken shells, she felt survival plagues.
She emerged escaping death this time, enduring deform.
A few days later, she was gone, feathers strewn about.
One hen, then, another hid…sitting on precious eggs.
Within a month, the strutting rooster crowed his prideful shout.
Nineteen little chicks scurried out close to two hens legs.
ã June 7, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Eggs, but NO epulaeryus
Sponsored by: Black Eyed Susan

< Driving along in my automobile
Seen homeless man holding sign will work for his meals
Should I stop or should I just Go !
Should I give Or Should I just say hell No !
But what if that was me
Crying out with such pitty
Not knowing where to get next meal
Three kids crying at worn out heels
Cardboard boxes to call our home
Dumpster diving for pieces of foam
Think I'll give him a piece of my pot
Opened wallet and gave him alot
A nice twenty came on out
Wiped out was his sadden pout
Drove by an hour later
Homeless camp wiped off roadmarks slatter
Wonder where dirty Dan had now roamed
Just hope he finds a better suitable home

I can't have a picnic today.
The food, I can't afford to pay.
The price of gas and everything.
Even my heart can't afford to sing.
The blues are sung by yellow wrens.
And the camara's cover is still on the lens.
The joy in life is slowly fading.
As picnic ants are hungryly waiting.
I know this is not what you want to hear.
But empty bellies are living near.
The price for pleasure and blissfulness.
Is much too high for all the rest.

Written in 04 when there was a chicken flue scare...Peter
Chicken Karma.
Chickens fighting back with Karma
Coming down with chicken flue.
People watching all those years now
{people being me and you}
Watching all those cruel fellows
I'm the same I watched it too.
Creatures kept in little cages
Beaks cut off to make them meek.
Never seeing sunny weather
No room to move, of this I speak!!
And now us folk be getting worried
That chicken flue our deaths will seek.
Well I be saying "ain't my fault"
But me, I've ate that chicken too.
And I knew what folk were doing
I'd seen the cruel things they do
And now that karma's getting closer
Will the world go down with chicken flu?.
Dec 30 2004.

Let life win for now... when your head sadly down.
Let life win for now... when your chips are down,
Let life win for now... when you can’t speak a sound,
Let life win for now... win when you just getting up off the ground
and life nocks you back down.
Let life win for now, as you standing in free line,
when your gut is light to get a bite
to keep you up right to win the battles of life.
But be poise and patient for those who step in your way, your enemy,
your unknown rival... Let life pave the way
therefore what you had good then and do not have now
Let life win for now, because life knows what comes around.
Poetry written by 11/26/10 Author Keith Kadell

Is it Christmas everywhere?
Christmas parties and stuffed teddy bears.
Songs of merry Christmas delight.
Snow covered rooftops glowing at night.
Gifts of sparkling diamond rings.
Christmas memories and special things.
Holiday feasts and decorated doors.
Chocolate covered cherries, Oh! Give me more.
Trips to the mall to buy gifts galore.
Paying with plastic I depleted my stash.
Let us make a loan I need more cash.
Is it Christmas everywhere?
Are you sure without a doubt?
Because some poor child this Christmas will be without.
Give hope and love.
Give prayers and faith.
For those lonesome people on this Christmas day.
Is it Christmas eerywhere?
With war overseas?
People dying and starving,
and no shoes to cover their feet.
Is it Christmas everywhere, with so much poverty?
Families who go hungry, with nothing much to eat.
What about the homeless and natural disaster stricken lands?
It would make this Christmas merry for the wealthy to lend a hand.
With death and crying, and cold and mourning,
an unfortunate road to a path with no glory.
Oh! What a very sad Christmas story.
My home is my castle that shelters me,
but don't forget the homeless that beg on the street.
So, make this Christmas merry if you're able to give.
Share your heart with someone and allow them to live.
The best Christmas will be without a doubt,
God will bless you for giving to those who are without.

Please help me today!!
I have walked for so long my body aches.
I travel these roads with my big back pack.
I wish that I had my old life back.
Life dealt it's cards in one short day.
I lost it all but I will be okay.
I carry this cross along the way.
I'm tired of this journey but I have hope.
I clutch my bible, a way to cope.
My cardboard box shields my head from the rain.
I have nothing to lose and nothing to gain.
I walk through the seasons of hot and cold,
with no promises to keep and no one to hold.
I'm lonely and tired and I feel so weak.
Days go by with nothing to eat.
Teardrops fall and I wipe them away.
I have no one to call and nothing to say.
I close my eyes and begin to sleep.
No dreams tonight on this hot city street.
It is very real. Is this really America? For those who don't notice are those who don't care.
America has a real heartbreaking problem that needs to be fixed.

I RUN from FEAR.
I HUNT for FEAR.
I HIDE in FEAR.
I FIGHT cause of FEAR.
I'm FAR from you.
I'm SCARED cause of you.
You're the FEAR that I HUNT.
You're the FEAR that I FIGHT.
You're the FEAR that SCARED me for LIFE.
*Comment if you have any thought and if you like it. oh and some of the poems i write arn't
always my feelings. their some times just to get through other people so they can have
something to read that just fit's them.*
-Angel4eva23

Estephania was the Spanish horse,
with a chestnut coat and mane
and a lighter long tail...and she ate
alfalfa for strong teeth and bones.
She was domesticated, losing her liberty
and neighing she showed keen ability:
to spot dangers on a perilous path...
Estefania even stopped for a stranded cat.
In summertime she fed mostly on grass,
but bees stung her many times to protest,
and struggling to get them off her tail...
she hit a shrilling raven in the head.
And feeling sorry for the dying bird wincing,
Estefania licked his semi-open eyes...giving
him a little comfort as he folded his wings;
and whinnying she wept a river of tears.

A volley of thrashes, the starved boy recalls,
his shrieks of terror, that didn’t pass the walls,
with no means for meals, tireless on his heels.
He should be freed, from the clutches of greed.
Each painful reminder, like a crawling spider,
with intentions malign, his touch too familiar,
but she couldn’t decline, with nothing to feed.
She should be freed, from men of that breed.
In the wake of their cries, pleading for a hand,
as promises broken, they seem to understand,
let us sound this call, before worse does befall.
They should be freed, today let’s sow this seed.
One bouquet of roses, each clinging to its stem,
to watch their smiling faces, each a precious gem,
their faces sweet as honey, worth more than money,
They should be freed, to this truth may this lead.
Under strong powers of protection,
may they enjoy the resurrection,
to give them hope and determination,
lead them in the right direction.

Shades of color bounce within
Singing their hues dancing in place
Vivid lines colored outside
Rules broken with empty space
A midnights dream heard and seen
Gleaming from the twinkle of a eye
Wings touched flown and plucked
Gliding like a bird up in the sky
Wishes from pennies thrown into tears
The reservoir over flowing with pigments of pain
Drowning from the shadows
The flood paints the day
Words speak volumes of silence hidden
Their sounds blind to what they see
Mirrors of nouns and verbs
Their meaning and secrets lost at sea
Emotions ruled by laws of language
Spelled in boxes of glass
Melted from sands inside
That voices strangle to grasp

Starving America
A crushing viper created by the rich
Its poison spreads through the country
Strangling the working class
Taking their jobs and shipping them away
Their children left to starve
Homes left empty as their shells rot away
Squatters scramble to find anywhere dry
Hungry people wander the streets looking for anything
Garbage cans become fancy restaurants
Spoiled and rotting food become gourmet meals
Anything to keep the body and soul alive
No one is safe from the viper's grasp
Doctors and businessmen move to tent cities
Babies are left in suitcases or killed
Better they die fast than face a living hell
Robberies and murders are common place
Violent fighting over a crust of bread
Hope died as the money faded away
Soup kitchens fill with hungry families
Everyone getting their one meal a day
The viper has struck
Grabbing America by the throat
Squeezing it to cut off its life
America will survive
The one percent will thrive
The rest of us...who knows?

I sit on the floor and wait from dusk to dawn, for a new day will soon be reborn. I count all
the blooming flowers, and count down the long hours, while mum takes her shower.
Today's the day, for it's my birthday. I hope I get A car, or A guitar or maybe even become
A movie star, but that's asking A bit too much of me. I walk around singing out A loud,
acting proud feeling as if my heads in A cloud. To my surprise I start stumbling over my
words and begin mumbling. Maybe mum just forgot about me, or are they just hiding the
presents from me? I walk through the hall, with my head dragging looking at the floor,
and go to bed with my heart feeling torn. It's getting late and I can no longer wait. I turn
off my light, and close my eyes and cry having so much things go through my mind. I
drift to sleep but then I see, mum walking in my room in the middle of the night with A
light. It's so bright. She raises my heart like A kite, taking of it flight and she says, good
night, and turns of the lights. She raised my hopes high and then shot them out of the
sky. I break down and cry, it feels as if I've just died. No one remembered why today was
A special day for it was my birthday. I look at the sky and wonder why? I light my candle
and close my eyes, tears dripping down onto my thighs, and I start to whisper in my
mind. "I don't want A car, or even A guitar. I don't even want to become A movie star. I
just want to be free of this disease called poverty, I just want people to stop running away
from me. Free me of aids so I can stop feeling afraid. Stop me from being poor, so I can
afford to stop sleeping on the floor. Make me smile for there is no reason to smile, but
please make my life worth while. Take me away from Africa, for all I see is people being
raped and all the kids hearts filled with hate, I'm loosing my faith for I am living each day
even though there is nothing to live for". A Tear drops on my candle, And puts out the
flame I whisper in pain,This is "My Birthday Wish"
We wish for luxuries that only money can afford. They wish for water for they are poor.
People need to learn to smile, for kids living in poverty have A legitimate reason not too.
Be happy for what we have, and never complain for what we don't have.
- Wiko Te Maru

A thorn of a rose.
Its a soul that's truly lost.
A person long forgotten.
A place of love & loss.
Something that can't be seen.
Something that can't be solved.
The most painful of all loves.
A thing that is soon lost.
Once you enter into it.
You are soon consumed.
A prisoner to the pain,
And the love that you consume.
The thorns rip and tear you.
Your heart becomes in shreds.
Love is soon the enemy,
And loss is soon the friend.
The rose is soon the symbol,
Of your dying love.
And all the thorns represent,
The pain that you succumb.
You wont seem to trust people.
You won't seem to have friends.
People will be enemies.
You wont trust your best friend.

1one2two9nine
1one2two9nine
CharlaXFabels
WiseorFoolish
DOING WHAT THE JESUS SAID
Eye am risking the loss of some merits to at least prove to some of you that to do
the works of JESUS is the right and lawful thing to do the man was just like me
he seems to be a homeless and eye asked him to share my food he said no he
was taken care of a food card from the service. Eye wound up giving nothing but
a courtesy yet my blessing is unending the words that JESUS speaks are meant
to be the life we breathe and giving is so certainly the thing to do. Not bragging
unnecessarily just letting people knoe to do the works he says to do. Offer
someone food if they can take it it will help you if they refuse it you can eat it
seems to me there is nothing there to lose. Now the food eye have to eat is better
for the act of sharing even the man is not eating with me the food it's doubly
better in proportions. Show me the house that's built on stilts that's built on sand.
There is a temporary church that meets inside the main church building they
usually start the service at nine thirty today they went out on a run away there was
no church service even eye usually go just to knell down near the table and thank
Jesus for the offering there there is Coffee and some coffee cake and other
things as well but today eye am on mye own attempting more than one thing at a
time it seems beyond the eye trying to stay hooked into the wonder of this life for
it seems like GOD is just like Santa Clause to me when we have it in our heart to
do he sees it just the same.
Eye still carry my raincoat my umbrella even though it has not rained for many
weeks I'm ready. The place eye like to visit has been pulled out from under me
the preacher needs to visit his own prayer room just to see how dark his heart is
to become without his love. He warned me not to trespass and so far eye have
not been back but the wonder of it all is that the place still seems to stand a
monument to decadence a monument to disgrace. They knoe that eye am
homeless eye still walk the street without a place. The blankets in the dump
seem so nice when eye am cold. Foolishness or wisdom tell me preacher what
would you do when the sky was falling would you stick your turkey neck up to the
rain and then just drown or would you find a church with a poor doorway to get
dry. The path is narrow the climb is steep and harrow the preacher fast asleep.
Eye cry a homeless to the end of time.

I am an invisible man.
Try and see me if you can.
Shy and quiet I remain alone.
Silent is my voice’s tone
No one can feel my pain and sorrow
As I hide inside of my burrow.
Shadows consume my body and soul
As I embrace the misty cold.
The reason for my unseen being
Lies in the fact I hate being seen.
This life and existence’s of my own choice
And I choose not to have a voice.
I am silent. Invisible. Inexistent.
Yet I am invincible, an immortal being

I’m a young woman living the American dream
working in a fast food restaurant
this is not what I dreamed of but
I got to be supporting my family,
to make them proud
Working in the McDonalds restaurant is my American dream
Flipping Big Macs, Serving them, calling customers names,
and writing on the burgers with mayonnaise
They don’t know what’s in the burgers
so they won’t know what’s inside that will kill them
I dropped a few burgers on the floor
I don’t tell them, just pick it back up
& act like nothing happened, they won’t know
McDonalds is my American dream
Ice cubes from the dispensers are as cold as the winter skies
playing a role for the drinks, that are nastier then you think
not knowing where your meat comes from
but the workers still cooks them serve it on a bun for you
that’s my job and the American dream
nothing can beat that!
That’s the American dream I’m living in, what about you?

So sweet
The lonesomeness of the city light street
has me hearing the sound of my heart beat,
I quickly fall to sleep, I wake up and stand
looking outside from my widow balcony.
I see two homeless men standing in line
whom I randomly see in this street,
scuffling in their packets from a handouts,
for good bite to eat as they gladly retrieve their treat
which is a pleasant cite for flooded eyes to see
moreover on the opposite side of the street,
I see people set down enjoying
a late morning sunny breeze in front of a restaurant
chattering, bonding, eating and drinking as
I share with them lessoning to the smooth sound
of the music, children laughing and playing
on the playground and on hard concrete street however
not wanting to hear the havoc of the noise,
and the rush of a saturated street.
That is a part of life... which can be sound and can be so sweet.
So Sweet Poetry 10/28/10 by Keith K. Relf

Dark skin,
like leather stretched
A skeletal body
Cradled in her arms
Tiny claw like fingers
Clutching at her breast.
Fount of nothing
Fount of hunger
Starvation.
Little body dying
Begging
For nutrition
Tiny eyes,
Black, desperate
Begging
Mother crying,
Skeleton hands
wrapped around
the child.
A last little breath
Weak, begging
A last little moan
A last attempt at a suckle
Death
The bruises still fresh
The pain in her heart
The rape of her body
The murder of her soul
A starved stomach
A dead child
Ringing questions
Why do I suffer
When you sit in your mansion
Why did he die
For you,
Zimbabwe?

Waking with a start,preparing to face the end
eating next to nothing,cracking the bottle of optimism.
Life looked away in revulsion as the villainies committed
and lost into the book of vanity.
With the naked eye i see the world every morning,revolutionized
but big words puff me up as thought i was you.
A jarring note,a shot of morphine and get out of the rut
a perjury of illusion,the only blemish on your face.
I was deceived into the belief of something invisible.
Swashbucklers,mock heroics,phony patriots and cells
that proliferate so rapidly.
Populous mash potatoes,the decomposition of the corpse,
i can't take much more.
Filth has no sense of delicacy,i never boasted that
and the inanity of convenience put a bullet through my head again
So i open the window of pessimism.
We live with the manners of a swine,
enough to keep body and soul together.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more stormy and less temperate.
Rough winds do shake our fragile bonds of May,
And summer's temper hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot your sweat does shine,
And often is your beauty dimmed;
And every handsome man you do decline,
by chance, they leave chest hair untrimmed.
Part 2 Variation
Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art as stormy and as cold
And do leave me longing for May
And winter’s temper too long showed
Sometime too cold yours eyes shine GREY

I whype away a tear
Sudden twinge of fear
Oh no what have I done
To the bathroom I must run
My anxiety and regret pry at me till I can no longer take it
My throat is still sore from this mornings lie
I ask god each day to please let me die
My family have no clue so I think
As I turn on the bathroom sink
I stick my calloused cut fingers down my throat
My eyes begin to water I'm frozen in time all I am aware of is the food I shoved down my throat finding it's way
back into a porcelain bowl
I flush to rid the evidence
I'm relieved and less tense
The taste of bile lingers in the back of my throat I fight back tears
I have stopped looking in mirrors
This is the shame I deal with everyday so I lift my sleeve and cut myself
As my stomach growls and blood escapes my vain
For that fragment of a second I feel no pain
Now I must paint on a smile and do it all over again tomorrow
The pain I lock deep inside my heart
Is tearing my life apart
How did this happen to me

Stroll through the Illest Empire
So much heat feeling like we’re living in the fire
But we’re living under fire
Tell me how many shots must it take before my loved ones are crying at my own wake
Its time for a break from sad eyes I’ve seen grown men cry
It hurts to tell a loved one good-bye
It’s the same reason why they died
Hearts just too full of pride
Mothers praying their young’n wont be a victim of a homicide
Too many drive-bys blood shed for a block you really can’t call mine
Wishing we could turn back time
High off of nickels’ and dimes
Making moves to boost your grind looking for hope
But the hustle got us in a head choke
Don’t blame me for acting crazy cause this how the streets made me and you
To watch our back and throw bows and cuss
Cause you got to be tough when times are rough
I know your asking when will enough be enough
And truth is I don’t know but this is how it goes down
But if I make it out will you smile for me now
So many families struggling with poverty
I don’t judge cause that use to be me
Watching mom come home late
Barley any food on our plate
So young and life we already hate
Praying God bring us something great
My clothes were cheap imitates and kids called you on them for being fake
Knowing mom bust her ass to provide
But all your knock offs you begin to hide
Ashamed of what you own
I know how you feel I been there too
I see mothers walking there kids to school
And the walk is far when you cant afford a car
Mom hoping one day you’ll be a star
I know about being next to poor
Your local neighborhood liquor market is your grocery store
Wishing you didn’t have to go through that living off of food stamps
Cube the neighborhood is a trap but we’ll all be free
So smile for you and me
Even 2pac said smile for me
This isn’t how its always going to be unless you let it be
In our different way we’re all a G
Cause we’re trying to make it straight legit
Whatever your hustle never quit but don’t lose yourself in it
Cause you still got a long ways to go
Still got a long time to grow
Use what you know to get by or you wont survive
Remember to always keep your dreams alive
Whatever it is just do it and never try
The limit is the sky so keep your heads held high
And when you come to a hard road just always know nothing can keep you down
You’ll be able to come back around
So give yourself a chance
And I’ll smile for you now
JUNE ‘06
B.K.M.jr

My sister is one of a kind and I know shes always by my side I know we fight.
and sometime dont get along my sister and I are like a song.
The bond between us will never break she's my best friend
.
and it will never change I love my sister

This is the story of a beautiful horse named Glory
Freckled and spotted
She stood but a twig
Lost in a forest
Of abandonment
Tires and barbwire
Surround her by day
And at night she suffers
The coyotes cries, not far away
Left with no food
Or water to drink
She stands by a tree
And hopes for relief
Halter grown in
And hooves overgrown
Not a grain in that belly
And left all alone
Withering quick
She stands by her tree
And hopes a kind soul
Will help her to see
There is life still
No matter how grim
Things seem from beneath
This horrid, old tree
This halfhearted twig
Awaits her relief
As the days pass her by
And she writhes with grief
Her name is Glory
All freckled with spots
Like a giant Dalmatian
Trapped in this spot
At the end of her lead
She was finally freed
Not a day too soon
She'll now find relief
Halfhearted no longer
And happy at last
Whom once was a twig
Knows Glory at last
Halfhearted no longer
And free from that mess
Glory has found relief
At Horse Creek Ranch*
*Horse Creek Ranch is, to the best of my knowledge, a fictional name.

Junior High right?
YES.
Stop feeding my fish.
They are not hingry.
I fed them the real stuff,
Not the fish food u feed my fish.
They don't like that fish food.
It tasted bad,
They dont like you,
Stop feeding my fish that drama you like to call fish food.
Its not food its drama and it needs to stop.
It hurts my fish.
It hurts me to see my fish like this.
You make them cry.
That fish food is expired so stop bringing it up nobody wants it.
My fish are full to the rim.
Drop it and stop feeding my fish,
with your fish food i call drama.

Stuck between two thots I can't believe what i saw
An extra taste of sweetness to my eyes...
Barely glancing at this eye candy was I on the wrong side of the law
See I know nothing unsinfull could ever feel this good
A touch like a rare sin that sends me to heaven changing any days worst mood
Her beauty was that of the Garden of Eden
Her lips a temptation like a forbbiden fruit no Adam could ever resist
Her eyes an ocean of lust I tried so hard not to drown in
But everytime we touched i slipped back in...
Deeper into this ocean
I'm trying hard to swim to this ship-cos i feel we have this relation
But I must be a bad sailor cos all my relationShips seem to sink
Followed by death of the heart,
Frozen in the sea of love like the ending of Titanic
So I don't want us to end in such tragic
That's why i choose to sail in this friendship...
Thou it hurts to say congratulations when you find joy with another
I'd rather hurt with you next to me than point from a distance and say ''THAT'S MY EX-LOVER''

Two men alone with their wounds,
following footpaths in the tall grass
so as not to be seen
by militia.
Stealing pumpkins from farmed fields
chewing on grass stems to ease hunger
Listening to the sound of frogs
And followed to water.
On guard, always, at the pools
That is where they gathered
Learned how to submerge the body
With just a nose showing above water.
Hungry, thirsty, but mostly cold.
No clothes, forty-degrees F, staying close,
To conserve body heat
While Hyena's and Leopards lurked.
Finding other refugees along the way
Comforted in the fact of comraderie
yet it was harder to move unseen with more bodies
and food became scarce like water.
The Kangen riverbed was barren
hot, hot sun
one adult amongst boys
The Lost Boys of the Sudan.
Finding muddy pools of water, they ate the mud
Just for the moisture, easing the pain
Tongues swollen, skin grey
No voices.
Utilizing everything, they drank their own urine.
Singing Christian songs
Asking God for water
he gave them vulture-ridden bodies along-side a swamp.
A swamp! drank and drank
found tortoises and roasted them with grasshoppers
First protein eaten in so long,
sat in those marshes and tried to regain strength.
Crossed the Gilo, eyeballing the crocs eyeballing them
Dodging bullets from Ethiopian rebels
some lived.
Six months of starvation to reach Kenya.
There are camps along and throughout
Eastern Africa
And in each one, Death reigns
as the new and forever King of the Motherland.

Woke up with a terrible headache,
pounding this brain, spoiling the taste
of the delicious mocha coffee I sip;
tired of watching the urban morning news,
troubles abound, so do my Holiday blues.
And a blank mind void of inspiration
adds to my unbearable, changeless woes;
wouldn't someone cheer me up, and with a convulsion,
revive my weak breath risking annihilation?
Fresh air, crisp and fragrant, is needed into my lungs.
A blue and bright sky isn't sought after when it's frigid,
all my body wants to do is keep itself warm by this fireplace,
watch the log's fire rising amid the reddish bricks of the chimney walls...
imagining throngs of scintillating fireflies float on a mild summer's evening;
wouldn't a hot bowl of chicken soup will revive me and do me good?
And a blank mind void of inspiration
can spend a whole day in idleness when thoughts do escape;
and once they are gone, they are lost forever to memory and vision,
but wouldn't this be an horrible thought to hold them in my grip,
wanting them to stay...not to connote guilt?
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Home
Such a long time ago
So very far away
The true memories fade
Replaced by idealistic thoughts
Streets change
The ones you walked are now dead end
Dug up to make room for a new dance club
Even the street you grew up on doesn’t look the same
Buildings change names and shapes
People move away or die
Even the love of you teenage life is long gone
Your favorite food has long past gone
Smitty always made the best chili burgers
Where is he now?
His placed closed up decades ago
There no more family run food joints
They changed into national burger stands
The local personality has died
They say that you can never go back
That home will never be as you remember it
For once they are right
You can never go home again

People say it’s only skin, but I see lard.
I see it falling down, straight from my arms.
It speaks to me, saying, come on eat.
You know you want to. Come on, feed me.
But I won’t. I think: discipline is key.
You can do it, food’s the enemy.

Beside a sluice rests a home:
humbly weaved with strands of memoirs.
Minute signs of yesterday’s flight
submerge beneath cinders of warmth.
Inside is a temple, Genesis’ daughter,
who rears the seeds of tomorrow’s spring.
Withstanding languor: gravid’s twin,
she awaits the sojourn of a milk-washed kin.
Soon enough, she perches on lives-
each, counting chickens inside their minds.
Alas, they fail to know their fate:
not all will leave their carapace.

Dear Friends,
I said a last goodbye to my beloved chow dog BEAR today. Let the folowing be for him. I
wrote it some time ago. He was a shelter dog.
JBR
THE HUMAN SOCIETY
The Human Society is an organization,
Dedicated to the prevention of abuse,
To humans by dogs.
Dogs start their devious work,
With that sad helpless irresistible face,
At the local animal shelter.
So you pay $50 to take them home.
Only to discover within 24 hours,
That they are priceless.
They steal your heart, eat the food you bought them,
Then eat the food you bought for yourself.
They take over your furniture,
And lay down in the floor,
Precisely in your way.
They command your bed,
Taking over your favorite pillow,
Without a second thought.
Then, I repeat, then they keep you,
From getting angry at them,
With all their wiles,
From sad faces, to silly antics, to joyfully meeting you at the door.
Someone needs to protect us poor humans,
From their loving honesty.
Maybe a big mean one-eared cat,
With bad tuna breath,
Is the answer.

You picked this day to die
My hair's a mess
I'm really tired
Stopped at the super market
Needed some eggs to make a pie
You didn't say what time
I guess I really didn't know
Should I wait around awhile
Or were You ever gonna show
These eggs, they have expired
Guess that's just the way it goes
Things do require
Things do expire
If someone noticed I suppose

The words cut through the air and soon it is over, all over
Her hands slip from his, like one last raindrop sliding off a leaf
The smell of candles waft from behind him, and he turns away as she leaves
The romantic dinner sits on the table, cold, and lonesome with two empty chairs
As he turns back to where she once was standing
He sees only a flash of car lights as she drives away for the last time
Somehow it seems so surreal, the room is silent and still; after all these years
All the years spent with her cheerful voice and playful laugh surrounding him
Now all he can hear is the soft humming of the refrigerator in the background
While the candles burn down and the dinner grows ever colder
A half-hour has passed and yet he stands his ground
The longer he waits the harder his heart starts to pound
Tears cover his cheeks as he falls to his knees
Without a word or a sound he covers his face and weeps
And all the while the candles have burnt out and the food could be no colder

War World II was raging over this
southern Italian town* spared by a miracle...
a deluge that suddenly occurred:
a night of blasting sounds, of rising flames
as American planes bombarded its buildings;
the Nazis fled to occupied Naples.
In the North, the Fascits were executed,
as the Dictator Mussolini himself was.
The farms could not be furrowed deep and neat,
fear hung over the farmers' shoulders;
and wheat couldn't grow abundantly to make bread,
and brazen women to a distant granary they went,
risking their lives to grind the wheat kernels;
they were no young men in town, or the older ones
who had gone to war for a concept so deceptive.
Many youngsters and soldiers were kidnapped by the Nazis,
to be taken to Germany as prisoners of war...who would have
challenged the Third Reich, or disobeyed?
Old women with handkerchiefs on their heads, weeping loudly
and mourning the tranquil town it once was...so lovely and happy,
and their cry was too bitter and inconsolable to be hushed;
now, even bread was taken away from them,
damning the cruel Duce, who had betrayed them for vanity...
why did he bring prosperity to Africa, not to Italy?
Why was his ego so manipulated by Hitler's cleverness...
that he could have conquered peoples and lands?
Ruins and dead kindred...a scenery of dread and abomination,
and the lively memory of begonias on their sunny balconies
brought a sweet nostalgia in an hour of horror and death;
and gathered among the crumbled walls, their rosaries
recited with graceful whispers, gave them
the strength and the courage to desperately grieve:
"Peace, o beloved peace, have you overlooked
the kindness of such humble and honorable spirits?
Darkness brought the silence they had sought under the glittering skies,
to hide the ugliness of the war in their gloomy shadows,
never to reveal the devastation of their town;
and with the new sun rising, hope would have been
renewed in the sunrise's lasting glow.
They would have seen those wheat golden kernels
bend under their heavy weight and bow....
and heard themselves saying," Mercy, o mercy
of our righteous God, let prosperity abound...
as the misty rain slowly comes down!"
Southern Italian Town: Baiano
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

A soft whistled howl and a mournful cry of pain
Small fox lies dying with a crimson stained fur coat
Its children left to suffer and yet so weak and frail
A content wolf watches its prey from a distance
Claws digging deep within the cold battered land
Tail silently swaying to and fro as desire increases
From the shadows of the shrub a silhouette emerges
A heart shattering cry of pain echoes amid the area
Its small heart seizes to beat within her small chest

Youth seemed an eternal joy
for a gorgeous and happy boy...
no worries over necessities,
with desires without sequence.
The fear of dying was far from pondering,
only beautiful days ahead for the youngest heart....
longing for a tenderness other teenagers never sought,
and sometimes sleeping away the afternoons was invigorating.
Like glass sheding water, his soul was pure and epic
and he never shook his fist to seek revenge;
he never shillied to shin a tall tree with panic...
always used pragmatism whenever on perilous edge.
He lives miserably, living on a day-to-day existence,
but the fear of dying is to exemplify weakness,
not to exert himself and to better before he hits dead-end;
yesterday God was his sunrise, now that light is glimmering instead.
He justifies his misfortunes with an inadequate story,
while his friends enjoy a happy life, he frolics like a sky-lark
feeding on what people discard in a garbage pail daily...
and weeps occasionaly, instead of coming out of the dark.

Fat
Looking in the mirror is a nightmare
So many fat roles flapping around
I just can’t seem to loose enough
I want to make my husband proud
He says I am beautiful no matter what
I do not get where he sees that
No, matter what I always feel
Fat
Mom says I am built like my father
Not meant to be a size 0
I believe she is just saying that
So I will not feel so bad
Because even I know, I am
Fat
While I have lost fifty pounds
I believe I could afford to lose fifty pounds more.
At the least
Then I would be able to fit into
Something more flattering
Than what I usually wear
I know I am
Fat
I can help that
I will, I will
I have to keep my eye on the prize
Remembering that size
Zero
That is where I want to be.
Therefore, my husband can really be proud of me.
When I am not
Fat
Anymore
By: Jean Shular

Easy Practitioners of Another Voodoo
While I was counting the cost of steak
And while depressed about her over weight
He was counting grains of rice
She was forced into a life of vice
And while the self righteous contemplate
Judgement day is a “next” meal “day” maybe “today” ( to late )
And the Judicial reprimands of “Burning Hell” are made
In the easy sanctimonious litany wealth
Bigots of the easy excuse
Sticking pins in those who have “no choice”
Easy practitioners of another voodoo
With punching high hand and waving bible
And while my tiny world revolves on petrol
And my tiny mind rumbles counting cholesterol
Their tiny portion evolves with racism
Their tiny lives end in starvation
This western ideology of comfortable supremacy
In this augmented and cosseted luxury
Of billable hours and ever enhanced entertainment
You sit back, just relax, and wait for the “Judgement”
Of voting and squabbling over opinion
While children “die” of malnutrition
And as my fast burger gravitates to the better bigger
It gives me the blind ignorant swagger
Of a bully in a play pen
Ignorant fool of devotion
Voodoo representative of a “Jezebel” nation
Indoctrination of the “money” dogma
Is our only inkling of our own propaganda
What dirt ? What Sorrow ? By life have we suffered
Have our hands buried children we Mothered and Fathered
Or have we forgotten how to identify
“And there, but for the grace of “God” go, “ I ”
While I was deducting the account of living
They were drawing water and smiling
And the pious sat back waiting for “Divine Wrath”
But those people knew what their water was worth
Easy practitioners of another voodoo
Sticking pins through the bible
Into those who have “no choice”
Bigots of the easy excuse

She drooled over
the soggy fries
discarded in
the foul rust bin.
She feasted with
the famished flies
and cockroaches.
She bathed her throat
with the drink tagged
imitation ---
quenching the thirst
of her dried hoarse
esophagus.
In occasion,
she would look
at the portraits
of the people
inside and wished
for the same fate.
As they leave the frames,
she begged for
old alchemist mints
and cherished them
like fine aurum
that can be pawned
for a treasure
more valuable.

THINGS NOT EQUAL
There are those who reach an age past 100,
while some never chanced to live.
There are those who share their blessings,
while some choose not to give.
There are those who have never gone hungry,
while some never survive.
There are those who find fame and fortune,
while some dreams shatter and die.
There are those who are rich and famous,
while some are poor and alone,
There are those with power and possessions,
while some are without a home.
There are those who are happy and healthy,
While some are sick and depressed.
There are those who believe life is the end,
while some say: “it was just a test!”
By Milton Lopez Delgado
December 4, 2011

Within my sight of ocean breeze
I see the curve of earth and sea
The little ducks as they walk about
A show of wings for a simple handout.
White clouds pass, subtle and calm
Giving rest to the sun upon the kiddie pond
The sunlight twinkles as the children play
Together they're dancing within the waves.
Here comes a duck with questioning eyes
A piece of bread or even some pie?
Bikinis and trunks play in the sand
Not one of them lovers, not one holding hands.
This all seems distracted as in playful dispute
The beach is so quiet, maybe they're mute
The glare of the sun brings me back to my write
I see the seagulls attacking a kite.
Although the beach I thought serene
This one corrects me of all I have seen
Only the ducks seem peaceful to know
Their questioning eyes and hunger side show.
The people are sad or poor I bet
To come to this beach, in silence get wet
If this is the price of the beach for me
I'll come for the ducks, the ducks are free.
BY: DARREN J McMURRAY
September 14, 2008

Sometimes I wonder what things I’ll do in life
Will I have a wife, a soul mate, a life-long friend, a companion till the end?
Will I be left on my own, by myself to fend?
Send me to a place where your looks don’t matter
To a place where you can be skinnier or fatter
To a place where your confidence and self esteem wont shatter
A place where you won’t be judged if you eat a full platter
I wish my emotions were an optional choice
To be able to drop them, escape the insulting voice
I wish I was a toddler, back when all that mattered was toys
Where it didn’t make a difference if you liked girls or boys
People’s words are like an army, waiting to be deployed
And when they deport, your feelings are destroyed
You’re on your own left thinking if there is anyone on your side
But you don’t go and search, you feel the need to hide
They have created a monster, it’s now living inside
It's tearing down your courage, and eating your pride
You find yourself asking if your parents have lied.
Telling you all these years, you're perfect in every way shape and size
Even now when you hear that, a part of you dies
Because it’s not what you believe, according to statistics
You've been judged throughout life, on your appearance and characteristics
Facing the world’s most blunt and cold hearted critics
It’s inevitable to judge, but don't be so quick to attack
You don't know that person, and that’s just a fact.
The one you made fun of, lost everything, house burned down, he didn’t have time to pack
His father had left when he was young; his mother was addicted to crack
What we all take for granted, is what this boy lacked.
All I’m asking, is to think before you speak
Even though you don't know it, it’s making the person weak
Just focus on yourself, seek what you want from life
Don't be the person who's the reason, on their wrist, lays a knife.

The striking actress
Vivien Leigh played the role
of Scarlett in, "Gone With The Wind".
The Southern belle fell in love with Rhett,
who had a set of charming blue eyes that captured
her heart burning with passion and love: like her red dress!
In the heart-wrenching scene on a barren hill,
over-looking the luxurious mansion, we see furious Scarlett
vowing herself to never go angry again and not to live in poverty;
and we hear her loud voice thundering amid cannons' blasts, as she
pleads her promise with vengeance staring at the orange-colored sunset!
And from that war, which brought much destruction to the South, a great nation rose!

CIVAL WAR
Men turned against men war fighting killing hate multiplying until Death ruled the
hearts of men carried over into Cowboys days of fighting killing and hate ruling
the hearts of men again taking hate to the new extreme of violence wins the
hearts of men again have you shined your shoes today mon capitan
have you ruled the words you speak yet have you grabbed the weapons of
destruction using them on the prisoners of Jesus is your coat a faded blue
turned gray is your trousers striped with yellow for the coward still in you
moving horses without food the horses soon become the food of men the stink
is wrong the meat does not keep men alive just bodies full of flies the war was
over long ago the winner was the Satanic Host and no one has an answer or a
prayer of cival war to come again the battle flag is raised and it is full of holes as
men are turned against the men of war.

I couldn’t wait to eat lunch with you tomorrow
But now my heart is filled with sorrow
The world has violently taken you away
I watched as you crashed to the stairwell floor
As your innards were sprawled all over the tile
The red stain will remind me of this cursed night
The night your life was ended
I just wish our time together wasn’t so brief
It is filling me with grief,
As I think of the memories we will never be able to share
I can barely take the thought of you not being there,
When I awake in the morning
So I will stand here in mourning
I will grieve over this world’s loss of ageless beauty
I will grieve over my loss of the one I dreamt of tasting in sweet bliss
I will grieve over you, the one I am sorely missing
I just wish I knew “why?”
Why cruel world?! Why?!
What did my sandwich ever do to deserve to die?

It may sound foolish or even insane
to have a wish for richness or fame,
and it's perfectly normal and human
to long for things we don't have;
but it's morally wrong to use them
against others...for one's greed and gain!
That conviction comes from inside,
uncovering the unclearness of doubt...
without being afraid of answers so dark;
faith seems worthless without a vision in the mind..
be persistent in seeking gold with an enormous risk,
and many will try a thousand times until they find it!
A small seed will grow into a rich harvest...
sun-nurtured and rain-quencher before sunset,
and all these things you desire
are obtained through prayer;
don't heed the cynic's advice:
push forward with endless stride!
A wish for richness has different motives,
discard the unworthy ones, consider the good ones;
curiousity and effort make people successful,
'till their empty basket is completely full!
Never did I see believers struggle for food;
it was given because they bow down to a true God!
Real food comes from the fertile earth,
those who eat it will not know early death;
millions of people die from man-made diseases:
cigarettes, drugs, alchool, and promiscuous sex;
if these are to continue, there'll be no one left!
Be considerate of others...don't do anything
you don't want to be done to yourself;
have the kindest heart overflowing with giving:
never stop at anything, if someone laughs;
your determination is the result of dedication:
let all watch and envy you for your perception!

I hide my shame where no one can see.
And know that they could not understand me.
I wear my guilt behind closed doors.
And hope they will never find me.
I purge the torment out of my mind.
And pray that that's what will help free me.
Look in the mirror, I see myself.
But the image there only cheats me.
I try to cleanse myself of these thoughts.
But somehow it always defeats me.
So, it's back to the crapper Joe goes!
The only place I know to relieve me.

Have you ever found your mind
drifting into that dark place
that secret and dense absence of light
look into the mirror and say
"There is beauty in destruction"
running your fingertips down your spine
collarbone wrists hips ankles
only to feel numb
your heart imploding
as the gravitational pull
plays tug-o-war
with your passion
10 versus 1
your heartbeat slows
leaving behind a shell
the exquisite mask your sold your soul to construct
was it worth it
did all of your dreams come true
are you happy
pure
untouched
perfect
no
just the 3rd degree burn of deception
fall to your knees
beg for the last five years of your life back
thin chance
slim chance
anything but fat chance
click your heels 3 times
all that glitters is long gone
follow the yellow brick road back to your heart
grab hold of yourself
time waits for no one
not even you

Sometimes I feel imprisoned by food
Sometimes it's the only thing that soothes
When I'm in an intolerable mood
I hate the snacks I sneak at night
Some how I know that it's not right
Sometimes I'm not even hungry
It's just by habit because I'm feeling lonely
There is no one to scold me
I'm not even fat
But when there is no one to hold me
and the calories digest
I can't help hating myself

Eyes hesitantly met mine
Pupils so intense it silenced me
His voice shook like a wavering candle
As he explained to me painfully
Of family and their way of coping
To maintain a front for society
No one knew beneath the image
That they were sleeping hungrily
Struggling hard to pay the bills
They had to worry day by day
Tried desperately to make ends meet
Yet they never found a way
He turned his face with violent force
As he clang to me powerfully
I could hear him holding back
But he was crying in agony
He told me of how ashamed he was
Of living the lifestyle of poverty
My heart was breaking just by listening
His suffering didn’t seem just to me

Bites her lip and closes her eyes
holds in poison and gasps for lack of words
The sunflowers on the window sill
have wilted from the density of emotions
contained in one room
one room where she finds her peace
one room where she finds her demons
one room where she lies awake
one room where she goes to rest
one room where she found herself
and one room where she lost it all
she looks into the mirror and says,
"it's a bittersweet life," and sighs
as she's choked with irony
only one person has ever made
these brown eyes turn blue
it's you.

5 AM
stretch, tuck your knees into your chest
on your back, on your stomach
on the floor, on the bed
bare skin against icy sheets
i find no comfort
no saving grace
as i dig my nails deep into the warn out mattress
let my body go limp
my wrist drops to wall
with a hollow sound
and a bruise to bare witness
last night i reached for help
and accidently knocked myself over
a piece of my soul slipped behind the dresser
i'll never find it buried in dust

Eating alone,
Like clapping with one hand
Satisfies none,
Just where is the fun?
Cooking for one,
Much the same,
Just to please me?
That's insane...
A communal event,
With his death it sure went,
Now bachelor micro- meal
Is all that does appeal,
And setting a table,
Seems more than I'm able,
Then there's pots to clean,
The thought too obscene,
A sigh all you'll hear
When dinner time grows near,
Cause it ain't fun anymore,
Without the dad I adore

I can’t believe how much I’ve changed.
The pounds I’ve lost in large range.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Happiness was the only thing I thought I missed.
Looking in the mirror,
What do I see?
I see someone else that doesn’t look like me.
That’s just the way I wanted to be.
To have a new body and face.
To disappear without a trace.
It’s to late,
I can’t stop for the love of grace.
Skipping meals,
Tarring me apart,
It doesn’t compare to what I pay with my heart.
If I die,
I’ll die trying to fit the image I’m needing to be.
Will someone please set me free?
No one knows the damage I’ve done.
Deterioration has already begun.
Purging blood and popping pills.
To fill this void I yern to fill.
This is what its like to lose control,
But it seem I’ve taken a toll.
I don’t want to lose my sole.
No one would understand the problem.
I hold my hands.
No one understands this obsession.
I grieve.
Wanting to be pretty,
Wanting to be perfect,
That’s how it started with me.
Now I can’t break free.
So many times I’ve reached out,
But people turned away filled with doubt.
Living a lie,
Being miss right
Was just a discise.
I’ve given up the fight.
All I wanted was to be loved,
With this finger in my throat I’ve shoved.
I use to be strong,
But now I’m weak.
God help me,
Going back is all I seek.

Living in that cardboard box
Is a man I use to know
He use to have everything
But now he has no food or clothes
I see the man everyday
As I'm driving down the street
He walks around carrying that sign
To get some food to eat
I see him out there in the rain
Trying to find somewhere to hide
It makes me stop and think
Should I let him come inside
I see him out there trying to get a job
Because he has a family you know
He has a wife and children too
But that no one knows
I see him out there all alone
His family left his side
But he still loves them dearly
That's how he makes it through the nights
I see him out there every night
Looking up towards the sky
He thanks God for what he's given
And for never leaving his side
Living in that cardboard box
Is a man I use to know
You see he is my father
Or so that's what I'm told